Page 1 of Cursed to Love (Cursed to Love #1)

Friday, August 9

For the thousandth time that week, Blake Akerman wished he could roll back the clock. Several weeks would be ideal, but six days would be enough. He would hug his mom and tell her he loved her, and he wasn’t angry at her anymore. Maybe convince her to change her plans for that day so she wouldn’t have been driving.

Blake had felt so justified in his anger for what she’d done several weeks before her death. For a week, he’d stewed in his annoyance until he’d finally reached out to talk to her. He knew her latest incident hadn’t been the sole reason behind his frustration, but after a year of her nagging and meddling, it hadn’t taken much to push his anger over the edge. He didn’t know what had flipped the switch in his mom in the past year to make her act irrationally.

Digging his heel into the porch’s floorboards, he pushed off to set the swing into motion. After he’d seen the last mourner to the door, the swing had called to him. He sat and stared unseeingly out at the street as the bright sunlight slowly waned.

If he closed his eyes for a moment, he could push away his pain and play a movie in his mind of a time when his mom had been different. Before his dad died, there’d been so many happy times of his parents loving and laughing. They had been his ideal of what to aspire to. They’d loved each other completely and passionately.

A couple of times in his teen years, he’d caught his parents in compromising positions. At the time, he’d been embarrassed for both their sakes and his, but even still, he knew that one day he wanted that type of love. The kind that kept them best friends and passionate even after five kids and a couple of decades of marriage.

Like a movie on fast forward, an image of his mom with tears trailing down her face, following his dad’s sudden death, popped into his mind. She became a shell of her former self—lost without her husband. They’d all been lost without him. Zachariah Bartholomew Akerman, Zach to his friends, had been the best father and husband in the world.

Blake had stepped up to take over the business, but he couldn’t replace his mom’s best friend. Eventually, his mom had picked herself back up, but she was never quite the same again.

It wasn’t until several years later that Blake had an inkling of his mom’s loss, unlike what he’d felt as a son losing his father. After the loss of his mom recently, all the major losses he had, felt fresh again, as if his heart needed to remind him of losing his dad. And Paige.

His dad had groomed him to one day be CEO. He just never expected to be thrust into the role at eighteen.

To balance work and school—something he hadn’t always done well—he had skipped a lot of the typical college experiences like parties. At least, most of them.

Not long after the start of his junior year, his best friend, Jake Young, had marched into Blake’s office on a Saturday, demanding he go to a party.

Blake would never forget that night because that was the night he’d met Paige. Nor would he forget the night almost eight months later when she went back to her old boyfriend. He finally had an inkling of what his mom must have felt when his father died.

Paige had come to Akerman’s to break up with him in person. She’d stood with her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

Her ex-boyfriend had come crawling back, she said, choking on her words as she tried to explain. She told Blake that because he was always so busy with school and running the business, she never saw him. She had doubts that he even cared about her, but her ex said he loved her.

Blake loved her too and wanted to tell her. But he didn’t. Neither of them had said those three little words to each other yet, and in that moment, he didn’t see the point. She had already made her choice.

When Paige continued to stand there, huddled into herself, he knew she wanted him to say something—to fight for her. But he didn’t. At twenty-one and with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he wanted her to fight for him too. Couldn’t she see how much was already being demanded of him? It wasn’t fair of her to ask for one more thing from him without being willing to give the same. If she really loved him, she wouldn’t be able to dismiss him so easily.

The moment Paige turned her back on him and walked away, a burning sensation rose in his throat. It was then he knew that losing love—by death or choice, it didn’t matter—could break you.

“Hey,” Jake said, pulling Blake out of his thoughts. Chewie, Jake’s St. Bernard, sauntered over and nudged Blake’s hand with his head.

Blake took Chewie’s head in his hands and rubbed. “Hey, boy, you glad everyone’s gone, huh?” Chewie always seemed to know when someone needed comfort. Blake let him go and wiped off some slobber on his pant leg.

“Cade said he’s ready to read the letter from your mom,” Jake said.

“Yeah, he mentioned it earlier.” Blake didn’t know how much more he could take today, especially if his mom had left a goodbye letter. “You staying?”

“If you need me to, sure.” Jake called to Chewie.

Blake nodded and followed his friend inside. His brothers and Jake had cleaned up while he was on the porch. “Thanks,” he said, nodding to them as he took a seat on one of his two couches.

Jake sat beside him, across from Cade and Dane on the other couch, with Ford in the armchair. Only Gage was missing. He’d taken off right after the funeral, no surprise to anyone, even though his not staying during this time hurt them all.

A sense of unease settled in. Cade, a year and a half younger than him had dealt with the paperwork, while Blake had been the shoulder to lean on, in the five days since they’d learned their mom had been in a car accident. The other driver was distracted while texting and had gone through a red light, T-boning their mom’s car on the driver’s side. She died instantly.

As their company lawyer and the executor of their mom’s will, Cade said everything was in order. His shoulders, tense and climbing to his ears, seemed to indicate otherwise.

“Cade, you going to read the letter?” Blake asked.

“Yes.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out an envelope.

“Aren’t you going to read the will too?” Ford asked.

Cade rolled his eyes at their younger brother. “No, dumbass. That’s only on TV. Everything is exactly as Mom said it would be, except we’ll have to decide what to do about her house.”

“Not yet,” Dane said quickly. “Can we wait?”

Blake wasn’t ready to deal with the house yet, either. “Sure.” He gave Dane a nod. “Cade,” he prompted, wanting to get the letter over with.

Cade pulled a single piece of paper out of an envelope. “You want to read it?”

“No.” As the oldest and the CEO of Akerman Contracting, his brothers usually deferred to him for major decisions. He had no problem taking the lead, but not this time. He didn’t want to read his mom’s final words while remembering some of his last words to her; listening would be hard enough.

“Dear Blake, Cade, Dane, Ford, and Gage,

My hope for all five of you is that you will each find that special someone and experience the kind of soul-deep, magnificent love your father and I had.

If that day came before each of you turned thirty, I would have ripped up this letter and one day during a family dinner I would have told you a crazy story about one of your ancestors.”

Blake swallowed, already not liking where this letter was going. It sounded as strange as his mom’s behavior had been over the past year.

“Since you’re reading this, I’m sorry I didn’t get to see each of you find your true happiness.

In the last few years, as you’ve all grown into amazing men, I’ve wondered hundreds of times if I should tell you this story in person. I never did because I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I eventually decided this letter would be like a will and life insurance— something I didn’t want to have, but knew was necessary just in case I’m not there to guide you.

I’ve written so many versions of this letter, trying to figure out how to tell you what I must, then I realized there is no good way.

A story has been passed down through the generations in my family. In the late 1500s, an ancestor, Eamon, was approached by a peasant woman. He was a prideful, influential figure in his village, and quite arrogant too. The peasant asked Eamon for food for her sick beloved. When Eamon turned the woman away, she revealed that she was a guardian spirit and said it was known throughout the land that Eamon wasn’t kind, but she had wanted to see for herself.

Since he proved he truly didn’t have enough love in his heart for those around him, the spirit cursed Eamon and all his descendants. Each person in his family line had until their thirtieth birthday to find love and have that love reciprocated, or the curse would take effect.

The curse affects each person differently. My great, great aunt withered away quickly, and I was told one relative lost her mind. Another lost all their memories. I have heard that there are many stories like this in my family history. I was also told that no one knows the exact day the curse will take effect. It could be the day after your birthday, or weeks later.

Please, my boys, I ask that you take this seriously.

Blake, I know you will be skeptical. I saw how you shut down after Paige broke your heart, and it’s time to let that go and love again. You always brushed me off, but I ask that you listen to me now.

Cade, you’re my dreamer. You need to look deep into your heart and see the truth when you love.

Dane, stuck in the middle, you’ve always been our peacekeeper in the light, but you will need to find your own peace before you can love.

Ford, there will come a time when you won’t be able to hide behind your charm, and maybe then you’ll see what has always been right in front of you.

Gage, it is time for you to forgive and love yourself; only then will you be able to find your true love.”

As Cade read the last few words, Blake half-listened. He didn’t believe in curses, but his mom obviously did, and now everything she’d done over the past year made so much sense. If only she’d told him. He could have gotten her some help to see that it was just stories.

“Blake? Were you listening?” Cade asked.

“Yes,” he lied, knowing he’d have to read the letter again at some point.

Dane snorted. “Is this a joke?”

Cade shook his head. “No.”

Dane continued, as if his question were rhetorical, and Cade hadn’t spoken. “I never would have thought you’d do something like this, Cade. Did you forget we buried our mom today?”

“Of course I haven’t! Who on earth do you think made the arrangements to bury her?” Cade exploded.

The tension rose, and normally Blake would cut in, but he was still processing his mom’s words. Why would she write something so outrageous?

“Woah.” Jake strode in front of Cade, facing the rest of them. “Calm the fuck down.” Chewie stood beside Jake, rubbing against his leg.

Jake looked over at him and he read his friend’s unspoken message loud and clear—he had to get a grip. His brothers needed him.

Blake looked at Cade. “Do you believe this?”

Cade ran his hands through his hair. “I’d like some evidence, but I don’t have any reason not to believe it.”

Jake moved back to the couch, Chewie following him. “Your mom was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Making up something like this, especially for you to hear about it upon her death, doesn’t make sense. Am I wrong?”

Blake shook his head. “You know you’re not. You saw her almost as much as we did. But, she’d been acting so strangely. Maybe this is a delusion.”

“You think Mom was delusional?” Dane asked.

Ford thwacked Dane’s arm with the back of his hand. “Of course she wasn’t. What is this then? A lie?”

His youngest brother looked to Blake for an answer, but for once, he didn’t have one. “I don’t know. Cade, was there anything else with her will?”

Cade shook his head and ran his hands through his hair again, pulling at the strands.

“Man, if you don’t stop pulling your hair you won’t have any left. You’ll look old before your time,” Ford teased.

Cade dropped his hands. “No, nothing else. I’m surprised too. I had expected this to be a goodbye letter.”

“This is crazy. We’re not cursed.” Blake stood and headed toward his kitchen. Not in the mood for one of the many casseroles that mourners had brought, he pulled out his phone. “Anyone want pizza?”

There was agreement all around. Dane walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Who wants what to drink?”

Blake ordered pizzas and took the drinks from his brother, handing them through the passthrough into the dining room to Jake.

The action reminded Blake of a conversation he’d had with his mom right after he bought the house. The living room and dining room were open concept, but because the house was old, and closed in. She’d told him he’d made a mistake buying the house because it wasn’t big enough for a large family. He told her again he never planned on having a family of his own—large or small—and the house was big enough for him.

It had been one more bone of contention between the two of them.

“Root beer or beer-beer?” Dane asked him.

Root beer was his pop of choice, but tonight called for something stronger. “A beer. Thanks.”

Shaking off thoughts of his mom’s disapproval, he walked into the dining room and pulled out a chair.

“You ever going to get rid of the moss green cupboards?” Dane asked, his tone mischievous as he took the chair beside Blake.

“I don’t know, the color’s growing on me.” He hated the color, but changing it wasn’t on his priority list yet.

“Hey, dude,” Ford said as he came around the corner. “Is there something you need to tell us? Your spare room is all set up for kids. There’s a crib, a child’s bed, and toys in there,” he told Blake, as if he didn’t know.

It seemed there would be no escaping thoughts of his mom’s antics today. An image of his mom in his spare bedroom came to mind.

“That was Mom,” he told Ford. “Almost a month ago, I came home from work and Mom was here. I didn’t even want to see her because I dreaded another lecture about finding someone to love. I thought she’d be waiting in the living room, like she usually was, ready to pounce.” He remembered walking in and looking around, surprised not to see her.

“Where was she?” Dane asked.

“In my spare room. She must have arrived as soon as I’d left for work that morning because in less than ten hours, she’d changed the room from an office to a room fit for kids of any age, in case I meet someone who already has a child,” he said, remembering her words. “She said it was gender neutral. Also in case.”

“Neutral is better than moss green,” Cade teased.

Blake gave his brother the middle finger but appreciated him trying to lighten the moment.

“Yeah. She said since she didn’t know if her first grandchild was going to be a boy or a girl, blue and pink weren’t appropriate. I think she was maybe hoping that if I saw the room set up for children, it might encourage me to start a family.”

“Whether the curse is real or not, she believed in it,” Dane said.

“She must have,” Cade agreed. “What do we do about it?”

“You’re serious?” Blake asked. “You believe there’s a curse?”

“Mom believed it.”

“I’m with Cade,” Dane said. “Since Mom was pushing Blake so hard to find love, she must have had a reason to believe it. Today’s August ninth and September first.” He held up his hands and checked off his fingers to count. “Twenty-three days until you’re thirty.” He turned to Cade. “That’s what Mom said in the letter, right?”

Since Cade looked at everything but the law through rose-colored glasses and wouldn’t believe for a minute that their mom had been delusional or lying, and Dane was the peacekeeper of their group. Blake wasn’t surprised they believed the curse was real.

“Correct,” Cade said. “Find love and have it reciprocated by our thirtieth birthdays, or the curse would take effect and we’d be cursed for eternity.”

“I guess we only have to wait twenty-three days to see if it’s real.” Ford grinned. “Better you than me. And then,”—he pointed at Cade—“I guess we don’t have to worry about you, since you’re already in love .”

Ford said the words in love like one kid teasing another, but before Blake could tell him to knock it off, his brother kept on going. Usually the charmer, he seemed more like the shit disturber today.

“Then you,” Ford pointed at Dane. “We’ll have almost three years to wait for you to be cursed. Then another two for me and Gage, so…”

Ford’s words trailed off and Blake knew he was thinking of his twin. When Gage had showed up for the funeral, a renewed hope had lit up Ford’s eyes, even in the face of tragedy. But when Gage left after the funeral, without a word to any of them, Ford deflated. A moment later, he appeared to shake it off and assumed his usual charming facade.

The doorbell rang, and Blake went to answer it. “This is crazy. We are not cursed,” he muttered as he walked to the door for the pizza. He could only hope the curse wasn’t real because he wasn’t falling in love again—ever—let alone in twenty-three days.